


But now we may be silent

by shopfront



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, The Crimson Shadow - Una McCormack - Fandom
Genre: Dancing, Domestic, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Missing Scene, References to Jane Austen, The Crimson Shadow - Una McCormack, post-show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-21 09:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19999669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopfront/pseuds/shopfront
Summary: As Elim's campaign for Castellan draws to a close, Kelas finds himself searching for new ways to distract him.





	But now we may be silent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Delphi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/gifts).



> Title is quoted from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Kelas watched out of the corner of his eye as Elim picked up and placed _Persuasion_ back down for the sixth time that evening. Once the bookmark was carefully returned to its place and the pages closed, Elim uncoiled himself from his chair and began to prowl about the room. Every inch of him screamed tension and control, excepting for when he would pause by the window and a little of that tension would seep momentarily from his shoulders.

He paused briefly by his chair on his next pass and reached out for his book, his hand hovering above it for a long moment before he resumed walking. Kelas turned a page in his own book, scarcely heeding the words, and waited for Elim’s next pass. When he didn’t pause anywhere at all on his return lap of the room, Kelas shut his own book with an audible thump.

The sound drew Elim up short. He almost quivered with how still he was. But his face softened as he turned to Kelas, and his expression shifted quickly from frustration to penitence.

“My apologies for disturbing you,” he said. He dipped his head into a small bow as he turned back in the direction of his chair, but Kelas stopped him before he could seat himself or start another doomed attempt at reading.

“I have a question for you,” Kelas said. He deliberately kept his voice serene even as he raised his eye-ridges pointedly, and was rewarded when Elim’s expression relaxed further and his lips twitched. “I once mentioned these novels to a Federation doctor who assisted us in the Torr clinics. She enthused about the romantic nature of the dancing. But while there seems to be entertaining discussion by Cardassian standards, the dancing itself seems lacking, especially given my understanding of current Federation tastes.”

Elim’s expression lit up when Kelas raised his book to reveal the title, confirming Kelas’ suspicion that Elim had been too distracted over the last few evenings to notice which book Kelas had been selecting from the shelves.

“Ah! An excellent choice,” Elim said as he drifted closer. He reached out and traced the title, his hand brushing against Kelas’ fingers in the process. “Do you wish me to explain the appeal of the dancing?”

“Yes, I’d begun to wonder whether my colleague misunderstood which books I was referring to. Is it-," he started to say.

But before Kelas could ask any questions about the book, Elim had deftly plucked _Pride and Prejudice_ out of his hand and laid it aside.

“I was similarly confused upon my first reading. When I looked into it further, I found there is some discrepancy in opinion across the Federation between those who have read the original and those who have simply viewed holos,” he said as he took Kelas by the hand and raised him to his feet. His lips tightened almost imperceptibly as he continued speaking. "Perhaps she is a holo fan."

It was but the work of a moment after that for Elim to push back their few pieces of furniture and clear a small area of floor. Once he had finished, he again reached for Kelas and lead him into the centre of the room. They stood there together for a moment, and as Kelas looked down into Elim’s eyes he noticed they were sparkling in a way he suddenly realised he had missed. Oh, he had seem them sharp and triumphant with each new campaign achievement. But there had been little time left to treasure for themselves, despite their ongoing attempts to hold to their usual evening routine - and even there research and speech preparation intruded occasionally, no matter Elim’s best efforts.

But such were the sacrifices of an all but impulsively begun campaign, and Kelas could not begrudge Elim a moment of it. 

“Learning this was one of the few occasions where I took advantage of the station holodecks, and I fear it wasn’t very illuminating,” Elim continued, blind or perhaps ignoring Kelas’ pre-occupation as he directed Kelas on the best stance with sure, gentle touches. “But perhaps it will help you to understand the cadence of the conversation better, as it did for me. Here, we should stand opposite each other now and prepare to step forward.”

Finally, he was satisfied with their positions. Then he began to lead Kelas around the room and point out where other people would be standing, if they were truly attending such a dance on Earth. When Kelas asked about suitable music, Elim was all regrets that they had nothing similar to the old Earth style on hand. But they quickly found a rhythm together, even in the silence of their home with only the muted sounds of a sleepy Cardassia drifting through the window to guide them.

Kelas stumbled occasionally, uncertain of where and when exactly to step when the other dancers were not present. But Elim guided him by hand and voice, so that they found their way back to each other with something resembling grace despite the awkward size and shape of the room relative to the steps.

“Are you sure we should not watch each others movements more closely?” Kelas asked more than once, as they separated and parted again and again.

But Elim only shook his head in reply and directed Kelas to watch his face. His eyes seemed to shine even more brightly blue than usual in the lengthening shadows of the dying day as Kelas watched him, and his amusement clearly grew whenever Kelas insisted on breaking from his gaze to check their hands and feet. But eventually Kelas did indeed find himself more sure of the steps, and Elim squeezed Kelas' hands tightly in celebration the first time they completed a circuit of the room without Kelas ducking his head.

He didn’t pause in the steps though, releasing Kelas as usual to send them into the next movement. Kelas could have sworn he still felt the ghost Elim’s excited grip lingering on his fingers while he spun obligingly out in a circle before drawing back to Elim’s side.

Their eyes met and held and then their hands followed suit with nary a fumble. It was so sure a connection layered over the ghost of Elim’s previous touch, like they were drawn together, an inevitability, and Kelas hissed in a breath.

Elim’s dancing stuttered. But Kelas didn’t let himself do likewise, continuing smoothly along.

“My dear, are you well?” Elim asked the next time they drew close.

Kelas didn’t reply immediately, abbreviating their next step to avoid the nearest chair. “I am well, Elim,” he replied evenly once they had circled back to face one other.

Their hands found one another again, like magnets, though this time Elim didn’t appear to notice. His eyes were fixed intently on Kelas’ face, so much so that he failed to notice Kelas shifting the angle of their hands. But Kelas didn’t miss the widening of his eyes as Kelas drew his fingers deliberately across the delicate scales of Elim’s inner wrist as they separated.

This time Elim was the one to hiss, the sound unmistakable as they brushed shoulders and circled each other.

Kelas was pleased to note there was no lingering concern on Elim’s face when they returned to face each other. Instead, he looked pleased, but also intent in a way that was both familiar and forever surprising to Kelas. That he could have grown to love such an expression on the face of Elim Garak would never cease to be a wonder. But love it he did, especially when Elim’s gaze continued deliberately down Kelas’ body and his hands began to grow likewise sly and adventurous.

“It seems that until now I have been entirely misinformed about the appeal of this dance. The holoprograms were never this delightful to spend time with,” Elim murmured the next time they brushed past each other, the tenor of his voice already dropped into a low rumble that made Kelas shiver.

The next time Kelas reached for Elim, he didn’t allow Elim to drop his hands afterward. Instead, he broke from the steps and tugged Elim closer, until they stood toe to toe, limbs and chests brushing.

“I should hope not,” he replied, his voice equally low.

Over Elim’s shoulder, he could just about make out the sun as it set over the horizon and the lights of Cardassia City began to flicker on. But they hadn’t, and would not, reach all the way to the small ramshackle rooms that Elim and Kelas called their own. The shadows of the night would shrouded them in comfort, tucking them away from the hustle and scrutiny of the city and Elim's campaign. And so there, for the first time in many long, busy days, safe in each other’s embrace as their pulses still thrummed from the dancing, Elim drew Kelas closer and into a kiss.


End file.
